


My true love gave to me

by summerof16



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arriving with a fight, Attending a christmas party, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Life is tough for the Odinson clan, Oh my gosh there's fluff, Some fights are more serious than others but what is Christmas without lots of friction?, Team as Family, Warning: Lots of Volstagg's children are running around. Trip hazard., Warriors Three - Freeform, children everywhere, married, pregnant jane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerof16/pseuds/summerof16
Summary: Catching sight of Sif, Loki frowned. He loved her more dearly than anyone else, but if what she said was true, what future could there still be for them?She caught his gaze, and her expression shifted between what almost looked like longing and guilt before being replaced with something unreadable...AKA the time Loki and Sif arrived at Volstagg's family Christmas party with a storm brewing.
Relationships: Jane Foster/Thor, Loki/Sif, Loki/Sif (Marvel)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 33
Collections: Mischief and Mistletoe 2019





	My true love gave to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CallistoNicol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallistoNicol/gifts).



> Dear CallistoNicol,  
> I love your stories so dearly and I hope you like this tale as well. Merry Christmas!

"Brace yourselves," Hogun said peeking out through the curtains in Volstagg's house, sipping eggnog from a colourful plastic mug. "A storm has arrived."

"What do you mean? I thought storm Habard is only hitting the city tomorrow," Fandral called from across the room as he checked himself in the reflection of one of the trays Hilde had set out. The tray had once been covered in little mince pies, but naturally, with the presence of over a dozen little hands and a number of eager bigger hands, all had quietly disappeared like a reverse rabbit-in-a-hat-trick.

"A different type of storm," Hogun said, watching as two darkly clad figures trotted up the snow-covered driveway. Their postures rigid, their faces alight with malevolent sparks, and most probably harsh words passing between them. Or at least so it seemed from afar. A green pair of eyes spied Hogun and turned his head sharply towards his companion, blocking the view of the argument.

"What does that mean?" One of many pint-sized children asked popping out from behind one of the sofas. The child had long, unruly red hair struggling to stay within pigtails, and was missing her central front teeth. It was Volstagg’s eldest, Gudrun.

Hogun surreptitiously glanced at the arriving pair once more and stepped away from the window. Taking a long gulp from his mug, he sat down near Gudrun and slowly shook his head.

"You will learn soon enough."

***

"-I am not having this conversation with you right now," Sif said glaring at Loki, who was clutching a bag full of gifts against his chest. The exchanging of gifts with everyone had always been a thing among their little group since half the group wanted to do secret Santa and the other half hadn’t. So they’d settled, years ago, to just buy gifts individually for everyone (married or not). The decision was met by grumbles, particularly by Loki who was not keen on spending his time and energy thinking about individual gifts for their ever-expanding group, but nonetheless he had obliged after some very convincing coaxing by a young Sif he had still been enamoured with from afar. It had all been well and good for a couple of years, but then Volstagg got married and no one had expected Volstagg to be so very prolific… The bag of gifts kept getting bigger and bigger every year as Volstagg seemed to exponentially multiply his brood year in, year out. Two years ago it had finally reached the point where there was a small theory going around that Volstagg was simply hiring child actors and passing them off as his own at this point since he couldn't seriously actually have seven kids... Sure, he and Hilde had been married for almost a decade at this point, but still...

"Well I’m sorry," he said acerbically, “But you can’t just drop that bombshell and expect me to stay quiet,” he hissed. “We need to talk about this-“

“Not at the party!” She snapped, stomping off ahead of him, a vision in a blood-coloured felt jacket, as she walked through the almost a foot-deep snow. She shot him a withering glare as she trotted off, her only consolation being that while she was, thankfully, wearing knee-high combat boots, Loki was soaking the bottoms of his very nice and expensive trousers.

“You can’t keep hiding behind events and excuses,” Loki said, catching up with her in front of the dark red door with a large Christmas bough.

“I’m not hiding anything,” she huffed a second too late, pressing the doorbell.

“I didn’t say you were hiding _something_ , I said that _you_ were hiding-“ he groused, trying to shake off as much of the glimmering white flakes as he could. He shook his legs, and annoyed, grunted, before tapping his knees too hard against the red brick wall.

"Fu-"

"Friends!" Volstagg boomed, swinging the door wide open, stepping forth with his arms apart. "It is so good to see you!" He wrapped his arms around Sif and gave her a bear hug before turning to Loki and pausing mid-motion.

"Is there anything breakable?" He asked, eyeing the bulky bag.

Loki nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Perhaps I shall just have to hug you later..."

"That is probably the wisest decision you've ever made," Loki drawled, earning a giggle from a blonde-haired girl clinging to Volstagg's leg. His fifth child, Astrid.

"Merry Christmas," Sif said bending down to the four-year old’s level, only to have the child hide her face against her father's leg. She peeked out and giggled as she caught Sif's eye again.

Loki's lips pressed into a thin line as he watched Sif play. _Sure_ , he thought acidly, _she had abundant time and interest when it came to Volstagg’s children, but not when it came to mi-_

Astrid reached towards Sif and pulled away just before they could make contact.

Loki worked his jaw.

"Where do I put these?" he asked, stiffly, standing straighter than before, a feat that few would have considered humanly possible.

"Of course!” Volstagg laughed boisterously. “Just leave them under the tree in the living room. You merely need to follow the sound of the Christmas music," Volstagg said stepping aside, dragging his leg (and attached daughter) to the side.

Loki nodded curtly and pushed his way inside, pointedly not making eye-contact with Sif.

"What happened to him?" Volstagg asked, running a hand over his beard, a gesture that Astrid mimicked.

"Nothing worth mentioning," Sif muttered.

Loki trudged through the house, clutching the bag close to his chest. He walked down the hall, following the sound of Fandral singing some barely censored version of a Fairy Tale of New York with Darcy while Hogun, as was customary, played the piano.

"Brother!" Thor exclaimed, appearing out of nowhere, causing the bag to fall out of Loki's arms and straight onto Thor. He caught it and grinned from ear to ear.

"When did you become the clumsy one?" He laughed setting the bag down. "I thought we settled that I would be the brother who breaks things and you would be the one fixes them. A perfect combination that’s worked for decades!"

"And yet I'm the barrister and you're the surgeon," Loki pointed out,

"Ah, yes. I hadn't thought of it like that. You shiv them and I stitch them," Thor laughed, patting his back with enough force to knock the breath out of Loki.

"Something like that," Loki grumbled.

"It's good to see you, brother," Thor grinned, reaching across to cup Loki’s neck in that ever-familiar brotherly gesture. "Jane and I meant to speak to you."

Loki furrowed his brows.

"What about?"

Thor smiled enigmatically. "We will tell you together."

"I see... in that case, where is your smarter half?"

Thor chuckled and pointed behind him. In the corner of the room, near the fireplace, Jane sat on a comfortable sofa, leaning over the armrest, frantically scribbling on a notepad, her tongue caught between her teeth. It was a common enough sight as it was, and yet the intensity stood in contrast with the usual lethargy of someone in her state. 38 weeks pregnant.

There certainly was no stopping Jane Foster-Odinson.

Thor cleared his throat noisily, finally drawing her attention for a split second. Long enough to see Loki. She withdrew the hand that was nestled in her hair, and looked up, shuffling her papers, and hooking her ball-point pen behind her right ear.

“Loki! I didn’t see you there,” she said quickly, folding and refolding her arms across her papers as if hoping that by covering them no one would notice that she was working at a party.

“How could you?” Loki hummed, crossing the distance between them to lean down and give his highly pregnant sister-in-law a hug without jostling anything. “Do you ever eat, or sleep or breathe between working?”

She smiled sheepishly and glanced at Thor, who grinned back.

"If I have time for any of those things I'm obviously not working hard enough," she chuckled.

"I get the feeling that young Magni will make his grand entrance in a lecture theatre at this rate," Loki remarked.

She snorted.

"There better be no grand entrances. Keep it efficient and simple, and somewhere hygienic, do you hear me?" She said, rubbing her belly. The child didn’t respond, but the doting look in her eyes grew warmer as each moment passed. Jane was happy. Jane was working hard. Thor was happy. Thor was working hard.

It was possible if both people wanted it enough. But only then.

He stopped himself from turning back to where Volstagg and Sif still seemed to be conversing at the entrance. Instead, he smiled at Thor and Jane, hiding the pang in his heart behind a mask of warmth and feigned joy. A mask he had perfected when he was still a young boy. 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for Thor- he was- it was just that he wished he could be as happy for even a sliver of his own existence-

He cleared his throat, cutting off the pesky lump of sorrow and self-pity that was forming.

“But with Thor as the father, he's most likely to be born on a golden carpet wearing a royal cape on his back," Loki said quickly, earning him a good-natured roll of her eyes.

"As long as there's no complications or problems, he can be born wearing a Christmas sweater for all it matters."

Loki's eyes crinkled, as he fought back the urge to lean down and touch her belly. The one time Fandral had tried, she'd nearly broken his fingers. Jane might be small of stature but she was quick and decisive when it came down to it.

But for now, none of that was written on her face. Instead, she closed her eyes and smiled as Thor appeared behind her and massaged her shoulders, gesture he was doing more and more these days.

"Well, that's good to know," Loki hummed. "Definitely let me know though if he's born wearing a light-up Christmas sweater. They're absolutely gaudy."

"And yet they suit you so well," Thor chuckled. "What was it Anthony called you? Reindeer games?"

"One time! One time I wore a Reindeer sweater and I'm never going to hear the end of it..." Loki said dramatically.

"Never," Thor chuckled. 

Loki's smile vanished as Sif appeared through the doorway, smiling politely as Darcy spoke with her. Or… _at_ her. Sif wasn’t speaking, let alone reacting to whatever tale Darcy was spinning now. Loki furrowed his brows. It was not usual for her to be impolite to Darcy. She usually exchanged jokes and made lots of quips with Darcy, but now… She seemed blank. Spaced-out, even. As if her mind was somewhere far, far away. A faint pair of lines appeared between her brows. A pair that only appeared whenever she was concentrating, but it clearly wasn’t on Darcy.

Loki frowned. He loved her more dearly than anyone else in his life, but he was not sure that if what she'd declared earlier was set in stone... perhaps there would not be a future together.

She caught his gaze, and her expression shifted between what almost looked guilt before being replaced with an unconvincing expression of irritation.

“Sif!” Thor exclaimed, pulling her into a hug.

“Hey, we were in the middle of something,” Darcy protested, but Sif softened, as she hugged him back.

“Thor,” she laughed, patting his back and extracting herself from his iron grip with practised ease. “You seem extremely energetic for an overworked doctor,” she grinned.

“All the lack of sleep must be making me slap- happy."

"You've always been rather slappable," she chuckled, eyeing Jane who immediately turned a deep shade of red. “Often rather punchable too,” Sif smirked, thumping his shoulder with a series of mock boxing-punches.

"That's certainly a fitting summary of our childhood," Loki muttered, earning a guffaw from Thor and an eye roll from Sif.

Thor held up his fists in a playful stance and hopped a little from side to side like he was ducking her swipes. Her fist shot out for his shoulder, but he ducked. There was too little time for Loki to react or do anything. His eyes grew wide with realisation just before her fist connected with his jaw.

Loki yelped as his head swung to the side, and the pain blossomed, radiating up and down his neck and face. He stumbled back, losing his balance, not having been prepared for a mid-Christmas party assault, and fell down onto the sofa beside Jane.

“Loki! A chorus exclaimed, as Thor and Jane instinctively moved towards him while Sif stood rooted in place, surprise and shock etched into her features like she was the one who had been punched in the face. Even Fandral and Darcy and all the merrymakers stopped. Fandral got up but stopped as Loki raised his arm. 

“Brother, are you okay?” Thor asked, kneeling down beside him, doctor-mode activated.

Loki grunted, running a hand over his jaw, as he clicked it left and right, and in a circle again.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, pushing himself up to a more graceful sitting position. “Certainly not the first time I’ve been punched in the face, and probably not the last…” He looked up towards Sif and smiled, but no warmth touched his eyes. 

“You must know that was an accident-“ Sif started, only to have him wave his hand and cut her off.

“I know,” he shrugged, getting to his feet, though stumbling a little.

“Maybe you shouldn’-“ Thor began.

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s just a right hook. You definitely gave me worse as a child…”

Thor smiled sheepishly.

“Loki-“ Sif tried again, reaching out and placing her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorr-“

He shrugged her hand off and levelled her with a sharp look.

“It's far from the greatest injury I've sustained today,” he said under his breath so only she would hear.

"That's not fair-“

“You know what's not fair? Withholding something so monumental for years,” he snapped and strode off to the kitchen with Fandral on his tail.

Jane’s eyes darted back and forth between the dark shadow that their exit had caused, with uncomfortable murmurs reverberating around the house, and Sif’s shift between chastisement and ever-increasing agitation as she ground her teeth together. She stood there, a salt pillar of increasing anger in the most tinsel-fueled, brightly-decorated room in the house.

Jane lay a hand on Thor's arm, and he quickly helped her up to her feet with ease like she was as light as a feather.

"Maybe ask about the godparent thing another time?" Jane whispered to him.

"That's probably best," he muttered back, eyeing Sif.

Jane cleared her throat, and spoke up, “Thor? Could you check if they have some non-alcoholic drinks left?” Jane said in as neutral and pleasant a voice she could muster, in her best imitation of Frigga’s graces. “Something other than water would be nice.”

“Of course,” he muttered, rubbing a circle on her back quickly, and rushing off.

“Sif?” Jane asked, waddling around her fiery salt-pillar. “I think I left something in my coat, could you help me find where they put it?”

Sif’s burning eyes turned onto Jane, a call to war radiating off her in waves.

She had the look of a woman thirsting for battle but knowing well that this was the wrong battlefield. War should not be fought around children and festivities.

“Sif?” Jane repeated.

Sif squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. This is why you should leave the scheming and surprises to others... You're not made for it like Loki and Frigga. She exhaled.

“Yeah?”

“Could you help me find my coat?” Jane repeated. Sif’s raised her eyebrows but said nothing as she caught Jane making eyes for the door. Perhaps Loki and Frigga were not the only ones with a touch for secrecy...

“Of course,” Sif said, a new purpose lending her confidence as she hooked her arm with Jane’s.

They weaved past at least four children running about with stolen Christmas cookies and edged past the kitchen. If Jane noticed Sif slow as they neared the kitchen, she didn't say anything.

"- Are you sure she meant never? She might have meant later," Fandral's voice wafted out of the kitchen.

"I know what I heard," Loki said sharply, and she could practically see the taut- strain on his neck and the working of his jaw in her mind's eye.

"Even then, you can't just throw everything away. You should talk properly, my friend-"

Sif blanched as they reached the master-bedroom turned cloakroom. _Throw everything away-?_

She walked over to the pile of coats on the bed and lent down.

_Don't think about it now. Later. You're helping Jane now._

“Which one is your’s-“ Sif started, an unwelcome tremor in her voice as Jane locked the door behind them.

Sif turned on her heel, her hand reaching reflexively for her absent holster, before seeing it was just her and Jane.

“What are you doing…?” Sif asked, straightening up.

“Honestly, I should be asking you that,” Jane said, quirking an eyebrow.

“Listen, if this is about the punch, that was an accident. I don't usually hurt him without his permiss-“ Sif stopped, a wolfish grin spreading across her face as she saw Jane's face turn a lovely shade of pink which sucked out any authority that she'd had a moment ago.

“It's about more than just that,” Jane said, not quite meeting Sif's eyes. “You’re both acting really strange. Not looking at each other, talking cryptically, sniping at each other more sharply than usua-"

Sif's posture stiffened, all humour flowing out of her face.

“Look, Jane, I appreciate your help, but this is strictly between Loki and me-“

“Believe me," Jane said holding her hand up, "I definitely don't want to get anywhere..." she gestured at Sif and the door, "Between you." She cleared her throat, but her ears were glowing red. "But you both seem upset and hurting, and I just wanted to lend an ear if you need one."

Sif’s resolution wavered. She opened her mouth a couple times and shut it. She swallowed and tried again.

“He _is_ hurting,” Sif finally admitted, to both Jane and herself.

Jane nodded, waddling over to Sif, and rested her hand on Sif's arm as she lowered herself to sit on the bed.

“Obviously getting punched in the face by a policewoman with a black-belt isn’t exactly the best way to be pain-free…” Jane remarked. Sif opened her mouth, but before she could start refuting, Jane continued. “But something wasn’t right before that either. There was that look again… And the longer he looked at us, the worse it got…I haven't seen that desolate look since... well... Fenris.”

Stricken, Sif stared at Jane. Fenris had been Thor and Loki's family dog, who had grown up alongside them. They'd both loved the dog, but sometime in Loki's childhood, he'd struck a deep bond with the husky, to the extent that he used to call him his furry best friend. His confidant when life had been difficult for a young, and lonely little boy.

His death had been devastating for Loki.

Sif looked away, nails digging into her left tricep.

_Have I really taken the surprise too far?_

She pushed the coats to one side and sat beside Jane.

“It wasn’t supposed to escalate like this…” she muttered, tracing the floorboards with her eyes. “I just wanted to surprise him.”

“Surprise him?” Jane asked, turning with difficulty trying to face Sif, and eventually settling to have her in her peripheral vision.

Sif’s lips twitched.

“If I tell you something, can you keep it a secret?” Sif asked, shifting to meet Jane’s gaze.

“I-“ Jane swallowed. Pressing her lips into a line again, she nodded.

Sif looked towards the door suspiciously and leant down whispering into Jane’s ear.

Jane sucked in a sharp breath.

“Really?” she squeaked.

Sif nodded, trying to repress a smile. “But Loki doesn’t know. I wanted to surprise him on Christmas… but with you guys and the party and the presents he started bringing up the topic of trying... and I panicked and told him... that I don't like the thought of ever having...”

“Sif! What were you thinking?"

"I panicked!" She exclaimed. "And I was driving, and he started questioning me, and it became an argument... and... now he's upset and angry and is rethinking us-"

"Sif,” Jane gasped, grabbing both her arms “You have to tell him. You have to tell him right now. This is huge! And the longer you wait the more you’re hurting each other instead of being the happiest beings alive- How long have you known?“ Jane asked, clutching Sif’s arm, eyes glittering with the same insatiable curiosity that drove her work.

Sif smiled a little and huffed a small laugh.

“I got it confirmed a couple days ago…”

“A couple days?” Jane practically yelled.

“Shh!” Sif exclaimed, clamping her hand over Jane’s mouth. She turned to the door, listening intently, and only let go once she was certain no one had heard.

“That wasn’t necessary…”

“Nor was the yelling,” Sif countered.

“That’s…fair.”

The door-handle turned.

“Jane?” Fandral called, “Are you in there? Thor’s got it into his head that you’ve been abducted by a handsome space prince who wants your off-spring…You might want to show your face unless you want him to start an inter-galactic war…”

Jane snorted and using Sif's shoulder pushed herself off the bed. “One minute!” She turned back to Sif and whispered, "Go talk to him," and waddled off.

She unlocked the door and found Fandral whispering urgently to Loki.

"Go find her and apologise."

"I'll apologise when I see her. I'm not going to go chase her if she's avoiding me-"

"Oh, Loki!" Jane beamed. "Could you do me a favour? I think I left my handbag in there, could you please get it? I would, but Magni is playing ball with my bladder-"

"No need to elaborate," Loki said holding up his hand.

"Thank you," she smiled warmly, before grabbing Fandral's arm and walking off in the direction opposite to the bathroom.

"Where are we going?" Fandral yelped, only to have Jane drag him along faster.

Loki raised an eyebrow.

_What is going on?_

He pushed himself off the wall and ran a hand through his hair. This was not the pregnancy he'd been thinking about aiding.

The Christmas music that blared through the house dulled as he gently pushed the door open, and found Sif standing over the desk in the corner of the room, looking down at a photo of Volstagg’s clan, seated together around a table, all their faces beaming.

He blinked. _There was no bag, was there?_

There was an unguarded glimmer in Sif's eye. A softness. A tenderness that she kept hidden in public. It was the same sense of quiet adoration he had felt when she had agreed to his proposal. The same silent love that had permeated through him when she had walked up the aisle, a vision in white with slivers of red accentuations. It was the softness of longing. Of love. Of hope?

“They are quite a chaotic bunch,” he murmured, leaning back against the door, causing it to click shut. He contemplated the key for a moment fingers itching to lock them in so they'd have a real conversation, but let it be. She looked up slowly and swallowed, setting the frame down again.

“Chaotic but happy,” she nodded with a small smile.

He returned the smile wistfully.

“A little like us, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, reaching an open palm out to her. A peace offering.

An offering she would hopefully find worthy.

She walked across, and took his hand in hers, intertwining them.

“A little,” she admitted.

“I’m sorry,” he started, causing her eyebrows to shoot up.

“Is it the end of times? Loki Odinson apologising? The universe must be coming to an end…”

He rolled his eyes, and hummed, his lips quirking up ever so slightly.

“Yes, I know. Completely unbelievable, but I do have a sense of remorse occasionally…”

She shot him a look.

“I said occasionally,” he grinned broader. He inched towards the bed, leading her to sit with him, and stroked her hand with his thumb, resting them on his knee. His fingers itched to pick at the inside of his palm, but he refrained. No, he had to apologise properly. “I’m sorry for pushing you,” he said softly, watching their hands instead of her. “We don’t need to decide anything now, and I shouldn’t have insisted, but… you should know that I do want that for us too.”

“I know,” she exhaled, pulling their joint hands up to caress his cheek. “Loki…”

“We can wait, if that’s what you want. But I just need you to tell me if… if you can’t imagine ever having a family with me… I know I’m not the nicest person in the world and that I have a sharp tongue at times, and that I’m thoughtless and awful and dar-“

“No, Lok-“

“No. Please… let me finish,” he said, and took a deep breath. “I know I’m not what most people think is good dad material, and I didn’t grow up with the best example of good parenting- father, of course not mother,” he said.

She nodded.

“But… a couple of years ago no one would have thought that you would ever agree to marry me… and yet here we are.”

She huffed a laugh.

“Oh, Loki...” she sighed.

“I’ll not push,” he promised. “Just… think about it.”

He pulled away as if to get up, but her hand turned into an iron-fetter about his wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she said pulling him back. She pulled him closer, and shook her head. “I’ve really made a mess of things, haven’t I?”

His eyebrows drew together.

“I don’t know what you mean…”

She smiled enigmatically, and stroked his cheek, cupping his face for a moment.

“Don’t move, and shut your eyes.”

“Wait, what are you going to do- Wait- I didn’t lock the door, someone could come in at any-“

Sif rolled her eyes.

“Get your mind out of the gutter for just a minute and shut your eyes,” she said firmly, resting her hands on his shoulders.

He watched her for a moment more, suspicion etched in his features, but he complied. What was the worst that could happen? She might punch him again. Or leave. Yes, that would be so much worse… But she was smiling. _Smiling mischievously? What was going on?_

“All right.” He shut his eyes and felt the bed shift beside him. He could hear her rummaging.

“Hold your hands out,” she instructed. “Palms up,” she intoned, causing a familiar shiver to go up his spine.

He did so, and a very light weight appeared. It felt like… paper?

“You can open your eyes,” she said, taking a seat beside him again.

He blinked. It was paper. The weight corresponded to a medium envelope, which looked empty, based on the thickness, at least.

“What is it?”

“It’s your Christmas present,” she smirked.

“Then what was that green-wrapped box in the gift-bag.”

“That’s your other Christmas present,” she said. “This is the big one that I was going to save for Christmas eve…”

“Then why do you have it with you?” he said immediately, slipping into his cross-examination mode.

“Because I didn’t want you to find it.”

His forehead creased, and he looked down at the envelope again.

“I see,” he hummed, and slowly turned it over. He opened the envelope and peeked inside. It was as he had suspected, it was mainly empty, but there was a little square of paper inside. He glanced at her.

She exhaled and held her breath. This was it.

He reached inside and pulled out a photograph. Or something like a photograph. The image was printed on photo-paper, the sort he hadn’t seen since he was a child, since the age of smart-phones meant he rarely printed any images anymore. The image was black and white, a cavernous medical-style image he’d last seen when the doctor had used an ultrasound to check whether he had sinusitis. But why would Sif give him an ultra-

He jumped to his feet, and turned to her, clasping the image with both hands. He looked at Sif, and then at the photo, and back at Sif.

“Is that what I think it is…?”

“I’m pretty sure it is,” she said, grinning from ear to ear, as she stood up.

“We’re having- We’re having-“

He stared down at her abdomen, and back at the photo and back down.

“Surprise,” she chuckled, wrapping her arms around his waist, looking down at the photo between them.

“And it’s mine?” he whispered in awe.

“Of course, it is,” she rolled her eyes. “There have been no random space-princes trying to woo me against my will, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He let out a startled laugh.

“Are you saying there’s a space-prince that’s wooing you according to your will?” he snickered.

“None that come to mind,” she hummed, tapping a finger against her lips.

“There better not be. I’ll murder anyone who tries.”

“Only if I don’t do it first,” she smirked.

“Woe be him who tries to cross you,” he chuckled, earning him a small thump on the shoulder.

“Guess I deserved that,” he chuckled. Her grin broadened.

“But I really am sorry about earlier,” she said, reaching up to trace his jaw. He didn’t flinch, instead watching her, with a slowly growing smirk. “That was an accident, and I’m sorry I hurt you. Both physically and…” She trailed off, finding his eyes again.

He turned his head slightly and kissed the inside of her palm.

“Shall we say all’s well that ends well?” He whispered giddily, holding the sonogram to the side so that they could both see it.

“I guess we could,” she hummed, leaning her head against his chest. He hummed, wrapped his free arm about her waist.

“Sif?” he whispered.

She look up and found his eyes, warm and inviting as holly on Christmas morning. He leant down and pressed a tender kiss to her lips, his own drawing into a smile as ‘Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ blared from next door.

He pulled away, despite her protests, and slowly slipped to his knees, where he pressed another kiss to her still flat-abdomen and looked up at her. She ran a hand through his hair and smiled, feeling as gooey and warm as a hot cup of cocoa.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, holding onto the people he loved the most.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered back.

***

"It seems the storm has passed," Hogun remarked as he filled up a new mug of eggnog in the kitchen as Loki and Sif walked past, laughing and whispering conspiratorially. Gudrun, who had refused to leave his side for the past hour, giggled and ran a circle around him.

Loki stopped in his tracks and turned to Hogun, a wicked glimmer in his eyes.

"Oh no, Hogun, the perfect storm is just beginning."

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Readers,  
> Thank you so much for reading this little story of mine! I hope you have a wonderful festive season filled with love, joy and lots of happy surprises.
> 
> Please drop a comment if you find a moment, it would mean the world to me!


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